


Two of a kind

by orphan_account



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Other, Short Story, mini story, pre-game, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26928586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rantaro Amami may be an enigma, but isn't that the exact thing that draws you closer? Bland curiosity is the begining of any relationship, and you have plenty of that. Theres just a few... problems.
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

"Hello, I'm (Name), it's my pleasure to meet you,"

The boy with green hair observes the human before him for a few moments. Nothing in the way they stand nor speak betrays their thoughts, maybe thats what puts him on edge. But the fact that he has no idea where he is could also be a factor.

"Hey, Rantaro Amami, nice to meet you,"

(Name) blinks right back at him, smile tracing their lips at his introduction. This boy in front of them seems nice, somewhat too calm. But when has that ever matter? If anything thats good, right? Having someone with a relaxed personality can be useful in many situations. His green hair is light and fluffy, giving them the idea that it must be soft. That could be very wrong.

"Do you know where we are?"

Rantaro thinks for a moment before answering. It would be best to consider his words wisely, since he doesn't know them and is an unfamiliar environment. The fact that they were both inside lockers doesn't aid his nerves. But what could? Nothing around here is calming, nor relaxing.

"Nope, don't think I recognise it,"

A sigh jumps from (Name)'s lips, as they slump their shoulders in an overdramatic fashion. Inside their mind thoughts whir past, debating whether or not to ask more questions. This Rantaro guy doesn't seem to know anything more than they do, so whats the point?

"Well that sucks. Wanna go look around then?"

Theres a lot of weight carried in that simple question. Which is why Rantaro has to consider every possibility. He runs his hand through his hair, closing his eyes to escape their inquisitive look. It only makes him worry more, he didn't ask to be thrown into a new environment with this strange and eccentric person.

"Sure,"

And so begins their partnership. The hallways are quiet, rundown and abandoned. Or they seem to be, but its proved wrong when huge mechanical monsters shout at the two, cornering them towards a set of large doors. When the two enter, the room is empty. It's a large gymnasium, feeling rather ominous with nobody to inhabit it.

Slowly more teenagers trickle in, the last two are a blonde girl and black haired boy. The machines from earlier show up, which causes further panic. That ends quickly with the announcement of proper clothes, which confuses everyone but there is no time for questions.

* * *

Oh... my head is pounding.

(Name) winces, clutching their forehead as pain radiates and spreads down nerves and springs unwanted tingling sensations. Something about migraines just... sucks. They're horrible and have no reason to be so painful. Just stay at a normal headache level of pain, don't get overzealous and cause black spots to dance around the victims view. There is absolutely no reason for that at all.

They keep one eye closed, an attempt to keep the pain at a minimum. Then reach out with both hands, trying to feel where they are. Steel walls surround them. As they run their hands along, their fingers snag at a latch and it unhooks, door opening wide. They stare for a few seconds, both eyes open before squinting to adjust to the light level.

The pain stings with ferocity and they close one eye again, holding their left hand to their head to cradle it. Taking their first step out into the room, musky smells of dust and past lives greet them. This world might be new and foreign to them, but it holds many stories before theirs.

The locker beside theirs begins to clang and clatter and crash, door flying open as the inhabitant comes cascading out and lands on the floor. They quickly right themselves, dusting their clothes off. Although you doubt anything has actually stuck itself to them.

"Hello," they say, remembering their manners.

They-He blinks once, stopping his motions of rubbing his clothing. His eyes open just slightly more so.

"(Name)?" he almost whispers, "What-?" He turns on his heels, eyebrows furrowed.

As he scans the room, (Name) traces his outline, tilting their head at his hair. The colour and texture... feels familiar. But also cloud-like. They wonder if it would be soft to touch.

"Do you remember what happened?" He asks, approaching closer, "The mastermind... We survived!" Relief flashes through his features as his anxious look fades to a grin, "I'm so thankful you're here,"

(Name) stares at him for a moment. Wondering what he's talking about. They blink slowly, a sheepish grin forming on their lips as they speak:

"I'm sorry, Do I Know You?"


	2. Sour

The boys face slips back into confusion, among other things. When his shoulders visbily slump and his lips form a straight line, (Name) feels a stab of guilt slice through their heart. But it's not their fault, they did nothing wrong. All they did was answer truthfully.

They do not know who this green haired guy is, nor what he's talking about. They don't even know his name. But at least he seems to know more than they do, thats one positive. If he knows more, then they can ask him.

"You don't... remember the last game? He inquires before (Name) has a chance to speak, there's still a tiny spark of hope flickering in his eyes, "Do you not remember me?"

(Name) half shrugs, contrite expression still plastered on their face even as they know they've done nothing bad. "I'm sorry, I don't recall ever meeting you before. And whats this 'game' you're talking about?"

"You don't remember," he parrots, seeming to come to terms with what he feared. Trying not to disturb (Name) with his actions any further, he gives them an abashed grin, running his hand through his hair, "No no, I should be the one apologising. I must have... mistaken you for someone else,"

The glint in his eye betrays the lie. (Name) can see all too well that he could recognise them, but the memory isn't mutual. The sharp pang of guilt makes them regret not actually knowing him, but thats not their fault.

Still, the curiosity lingers. The both of them wish to learn more, something draws them closer. Who will make the first move? Who will accept? Or will time pull apart this feeling, rather: the lack of time?

"I think I'll stick with you!" (Name) announces, giving him a carefree grin as they point at him with both hands, "Now, you know my name, but I'm in the dark as to yours."

He mirrors their smile, putting one hand in the air, "Rantaro Amami, it's nice to meet you."

"Huh, Rantaro..." (Name) tilts their head, tapping their chin in thought.

It's a cruel gesture on their part, pretending to consider his name as if they know it somehow, against all chances. Because, in complete honesty... they're just doing it to give him hope. Afterall, there's nothing quite so despairing as seeing someone lose that final bit of hope.

If (Name) can give him that small shard of longing, then they'll be happy.

"Righto, where are we heading?" They ask, awaiting whatever answer shall be given.

He thinks for a moment, "I feel like we should head to the gym and meet everyone else,"

Everyone... else?

"There's a gym here?" (Name) gasps, holding their hands behind their back and following Rantaro as he leaves the room.

He keeps his pace slow, easy to match as they figure each other out. With such a simple gesture, only more interest grows. Who is this boy and why does he claim to know (Name)? Why do they not know him? Why is there this sense of familiarity in everything except name and looks?

"Yeah..." He answers, "There's a lot here,"

(Name) hums, their eyes unable to fall away from the boys frame. They wouldn’t doubt it if he could feel their unwavering gaze, but at this point would it even matter? He seems to know them, so hopefully it doesn’t scare him away. Something about him does make (Name) long for... for what? To touch him? They can’t understand their own feelings when it comes to this almost perfect stranger.

But it doesn’t seem that he’s the only thing missing from their memory. Only their name and a vague background of themselves is retained in their mind. Which is scary to some extent, but being a blank slate could be so ever lovely, too.

Don’t be so quick to jump to conclusions, they scolds internally, being nothing and nobody is sad. Being somebody to someone sounds ever so... poetic.

In that moment, Rantaro turns his head and meets their gaze.

I want to be somebody to him.

They send him a grin. He returns it with a pained flash of recognition.

...Was I somebody to him?

The monitors switch on.

“Hello, everyone! How are you all enjoying your new home?” A little red teddy asks.

“Who cares? We’re waiting for you!” A blue one says.

“With that said... everyone! Head to the auditorium please!” A pink one announces.

“Umm... Is that where we’re going?” (Name) inquires, shaking their head to clear the thoughts of the teddies. They won’t bother considering what they were.

“Yeah,” Rantaro answers, “I guess they’re calling it the auditorium now.”

When they arrive at a set of doors, Rantaro holds it open for (Name). They bop their head in thanks, looking around the large room. Nobody is around, so they stand in silence for a few moments before people trickle in.

The final two enter. Conversation drifting in the air about why everyone is here. A rumbling noise grows louder, before five mechanical monsters surround the group.

“Everyone, get behind Gonta!”

“What are these monsters?”

“Ah, so cool!”

“These are killing machines: Exisals!” the blue one proclaims.

A chill run down (Name)’s spine, memory trying to recall something.

With the imposition only rising as all five loom above the group, (Name) back up to Rantaro without much thought. He is the only one they know here, after all. Everyone else is a complete stranger.

He looks over his shoulder, an indescribable expression crossing his face before he straights his posture, “Everyone, wait a bit… you don’t have to be so panicked. If they were going to kill us, they would’ve done it a long time ago.” He explains, “So, what do you want to do with us? You’re imposing the threat of violence on us? You’re going to say if we don’t do what you want, you’ll hurt us?”

He hardens his gaze on them, “Well... what are those demands?”

(Name) glances back at him, blinking. They don’t know how he came up with that. But for him to act so... relaxed at a time like this. For some reason, it only makes them want to know more about him. If he could explain things to them like that it would be useful.

...Not to mention it would be nice to spend more time with him.

“This is-”

“A-mutual-killing-game.”

“Eh?”


	3. Rancid

_A killing game? Whats that_? (Name)'s mind spins, trying to make any sense of what the words mean. If anything, they just tip them over the edge of confusion. They sink their head into their hands, trying to decipher what on earth that could mean.

There are voices rising and falling, nervous laughter and wild accusations flying about. None of it seems to make sense. Nothing is making sense st all. There's only (Name), and noise and confusion.

Until there's Rantaro, too.

He slips his hand into (Name)'s, gazing up at a larger teddy that has appeared. They look up at him before their eyes fall backdown to their intwined hands. A strange sensation curls around in their chest, akin to fluttering. They blink.

"An "all new semester" of killing games..." Rantaro murmurs, his face overcast, something flashes in his eyes as they momentarily land on (Name).

It makes them want to know what happened between the both of them so much more. But how can they possibly recall something like that? It just doesn't make sense. That is, if they're even assuming he does really know them. It could all be an elaborate lie to get on their good side, this does seem to be a dangerous place.

With a hesitant glance back at their hand, they consider pulling away. But they just can't seem to find the strength to do so. Something about the boy next to them just doesn't seem threatening, even as his expression is dark and he boldly says whatever comes to his mind.

_Someone like that... He really is cool!_

With a startled tremor, they pull out a device. They have no idea where it came from, but everyone else is looking down at theirs too. As they move their other hand to scroll through whats written, the warmth there reminds them that their other hand is out of commission right now.

But Rantaro gently lets go and scrolls down on his device. With a sad frown (Name) begins to read what it written.

_It's... rules. Rules of what we can and can't do._

Before (Name) even reaches the end, They've stopped reading. And the group is descending into chaos.

A blonde girl yells out, "Be quiet! This isn't the time to be arguing!"

That silences everyone as she gives a speech.

That (Name)... doesn’t listen to. The main gist seems to be ' _working together to escape_!' Which... gives them mixed feelings.

"Kaede... because you are so honest, if there comes a time when it's warranted... I’ll worry for you."

(Name)'s head snaps over to Rantaro, he starts to walk off but then throws a glance over his shoulder and meets their eyes. With a awkward shuffle-skip, they bound up beside him. Once again, side by side they leave.

"What was that about?" (Name) questions, grasping their arms behind their back and stretching out their legs as they walk

"This type of game... won't be ended by a simple speech," he answers, his eyes distant and unfocused, "And we— _I_... know that all too well."

(Name) hums, ignoring his mistake. It'd be rude to point it out, but they really do want to know more.

“Okaaay,” they murmur, watching how Rantaro’s eyes are focused into the distance but land on nothing.

He looks to the future, without anything to rely on.

_Okay._

* * *

In those few hours, many things occur. But with an uncertain glance at each activity their classmates participate in, (Name) avoids injury and disturbance. There’s the road of despair, or whatever it’s called... The motive announced that the murderer will escape, and there’s the reveal that **everyone** will **die** in two days;

_if a murder doesn’t occur,_

_anyway._

During each of these stressful days, two groups of two form. Rantaro seems to distance himself from everyone, answering only when needed and at the bare minimum, vague and confusing. But as he pulls away, (Name) follows. There’s a likely chance if they hadn’t, they would’ve prevented disaster by joining the second group.

Which just so happened to be a dark haired detective and a blonde pianist.

But maybe... maybe it wouldn’t have mattered.

Either way, as (Name) makes an excuse to follow the leaving Rantaro, unstoppable dominoes collapse against each other.

“Hey, where are you going?” they ask, jogging to catch up to the boy.

He stops walking, turning to meet their gaze with a disappointed frown, “I’m using the bathroom, thats what I said to the group, didn’t you hear?”

(Name) tilts their head, then leans to the side and looks around him. The library doors stand open and inviting, luring even. They then straighten up and raise an eyebrow, folding their arms and wait for an explanation.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “Yeah... guess that _isn’t_ the bathroom,”

“No,” they reply, shaking their head, “It _really_ isn’t,”

They peer into each others eyes for a moment, before he chuckles lightly, “I’m just checking something, I’ll be back _soon_.”

(Name) blinks slowly, “...”

Something about this seems familiar, their own hesitance to believe his words, his composed stature and dismissive words. The mystery between that can’t be solved in this game, nor the last.

“Do you promise you’ll be back **soon**?”

“I promise I’ll be back **soon**.”


	4. Saccharine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, why not have a happy ending?

_h... my head is pounding._

They think, before their face screws up. It shouldn’t be hurting, right? They were with their friends just a few seconds ago, staring off into the distance and the future. There was wonder and relief, still a dreadful pit held its place in their stomach and something constricted in their chest.

Still, they survived, so why is their head hurting?

Their eyes flicker open, unfocused on the world around them. There’s only white, maybe some silver colours that look _much_ too shiny and smooth. They shut their eyes quickly, wincing as a sharp pain shoots through their head. When the pain finally subsides and they open their eyes, swarming black clouds float around.

With a disgruntled sigh they blink and squint, clearing away the obstructing dots.

...

_This is..._

They sit up, using both elbows to whip their head around with wide eyes. It is indeed a hospital room, the scent of antiseptic and metal along with the general energy of being in such a place confirms it.

But they aren’t sick, they didn’t die? (Name) is fine, they’re completely fine. Except for the nagging migraine, but that’s of minor concern right now. They’d just like to know why they’re in a hospital. And where their friends are—

— _My friends!_

They swing their legs off the side of the bed, feet landing on the ground hard enough to make them gasp. The floor is startling cold, and pins and needles spiral up along their legs. But paying no mind, they push off the bed and towards the door. At least they didn’t have any heart monitors or IV cords attached, otherwise it might’ve been a _little_ harder to escape.

They pull open the door, standing in the hallway as if caught stealing. A few people turn and stare, eyes tracing their figure and watching each other in slight annoyance. Then one comes forward, nodding at the rest with assurance as they close in on (Name) and offer a welcoming smile.

“Hello there,” they say, “you were planned to wake up today, but not quite so early.”

They flinch away as the stranger reaches out a hand, “ _what_?”

“Ah, don’t worry. I’m the doctor assigned to you for today, you may address me as

Dr. Yon.”

They try to explain rationally, but (Name) can only give them a skeptical look and take a step back, “...Why am I here?”

Yon shuts their eyes, “Oh, it’s normal to be confused. You’ve gone through a lot recently, this is what...? The _third_ time waking up in an unknown place with strangers.”

The smile they offer should be calming, but if (Name) peers into their eyes too intensely it seems much too fake and forced. They merely offer it to make them easier to control, to guide back into the room from which they came. And (Name) does not want that at all, they want to get out of their presence and find their friends, someone they _know_.

“Where are... where’s Shu-Shuichi, Maki and Hi-Himiko?”

Yon immediately lets the smile go, lips in a straight line as they avoid looking at (Name). It only makes them take another step back, worried.

“They’re... still asleep,” Yon answers and offer another grin.

“Asleep? Asleep since _when_?”

“Now now,” Yon says, eye twitching as they yet again lift an arm to place on (Name)’s shoulder or arm, “Stop asking so many questions. For now you need to rest, then we can find the answers, together.”

They shake their head, “No... I don’t _know_ you. I don’t want to go with you!”

Yon’s eyes fill with frustration, lips curling in irritation, “Hey... You followed a stranger when you woke up before, _twice_.”

(Name) wraps their arms together, backing away, “I don’t like you!”

“Oh come on, we’ve really got to go,”

As Yon approaches, someone places their hand on (Name)’s shoulder. It makes them flinch and Yon freeze, but as they turn their face lights up.

“Please stop making them uncomfortable,” he says, eyes closed with a smile. And as threatening and direct as it is, (Name) practically collapses. He then meets their gaze and the smile melts into something so sweet, “I’m really sorry for leaving you alone like that. But hey,” he exhales softly, “at least it wasn’t **real** , right?”


End file.
